Master And Series 2: Master And Lover
by shadowglove
Summary: Sequel to Master And Slave. The war continues to rage on between Camelot and Mercia, and Merlin still doesn't know his sex slave and lover is actually the Crown Prince of Camelot himself. But the arrival of Gwaine of Caerleon is the beginning of the end.


**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin. Obviously.**

Sequel to: Master And Slave. Takes place approximately a year after.

Slash! Top!Merlin! Bottom!Arthur! Don't like? Press the "back" button before it's too late!

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The war with Camelot raged viciously, dragging in many of the surrounding kingdoms. Soldiers, warlocks, even farmhands who hadn't ever lifted anything other than a pitchfork or hoe, were now battling for their lives. It sickened Merlin to the core, and he worked as hard as he could to help them win the war so it'd be _over_. King Bayard wouldn't risk Merlin, his right hand, in the heat of the battle, and while Merlin was relieved to not have the witness the carnage himself, he also felt guilty. Here he was, safe in the heart of Mercia, while all around them people fell daily, never to rise again.

"It's not your fault so stop being such a _girl_ about it." Arthur muttered, although the expression on his face betrayed that he felt guilty as well.

Before being trapped and forced to become Merlin's sex slave as a gift from King Bayard himself, Arthur had been a young boy who'd run away from home and snuck out with the knights of Camelot. He'd turned seventeen while a prisoner, and had seen so much more than a seventeen year old should.

That was another thing that saddened the twenty one year old warlock.

"Stop _thinking_!" Arthur complained, irritation obvious in his voice as he lowered himself to the bed they shared, eyeing Merlin in exasperation. "You're giving me a headache."

"You're never going to learn your place, are you?" Merlin asked, a reluctant smile tilting the side of his lips.

"I know my place." Arthur smirked from where he lay on his back, on the silk sheets, exquisite body bare except for the small and tempting skirt-like material covering up only the very basic below.

Merlin reached over from where he'd been sitting hunched over on the side of the bed, and softly brushed away a strand of gold out of Arthur's face. His fingers caressed the skin of his prat as his eyes devoured every feature.

There was none as beautiful as Arthur, not male nor female.

At least, none that Merlin had ever laid his eyes upon had ever been able to match this golden beauty.

"You're doing it again." Arthur whispered, eyes scanning Merlin's face as well.

"Doing what?" Merlin asked, a little distracted by the way those plump, sinful lips moved as Arthur talked.

Men shouldn't have lips like those.

They shouldn't have lips that begged to be nibbled on or wrapped around a cock.

Men also shouldn't have eyes like sapphires or the sky...eyes that dragged you into their depths and drowned you in their intensity.

Men's bodies shouldn't be as perfect as this one either.

Merlin's eyes, hands, lips and tongue had mapped every inch, every curve and dip of its perfection. The boy's body was shorter than his own, yet showed subtle curves of muscles and was toned with a golden tint-while Merlin himself was lithe and ever pale.

Everything about Arthur (other than his personality, of course) could be described as 'perfect', even his taste.

He tasted-he tasted like _bliss_.

Like something that could only be obtained by sacrificing all your gold and wealth.

It was an addicting taste.

And the sounds he made as he completed his pleasure...or when Merlin would first ease his way into his warmth...

Those sounds were like sirens songs, luring sailors into turbulent waters to their sure deaths.

"Don't look at me like that!" Arthur growled, sitting up with a jolt and giving his back to Merlin.

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow, amused and used to Arthur's moods and tantrums.

The gods knew Merlin spoiled his slave rotten.

If King Bayard knew he'd probably would be aghast, but even that wouldn't change Merlin's attitude towards the boy.

"What have I done to offend His Highness _now_?" Merlin chuckled, using his newest little pet name for his slave.

Arthur always acted so imperially, and Merlin had found the name fitting, although it seemed to annoy Arthur terribly.

"Don't call me that!" Arthur snapped, tearing out of bed and going to the wall, slamming his fist into it.

Merlin frowned, the smile falling from his lips as he stood rapidly and went to the younger boy.

"You stupid child!" He snapped, forcing the boy around and took his wrist, eyeing his fist worriedly. "Did you hurt yourself? Do you need me to heal it?"

There was silence.

"Answer me!" Merlin snarled, raising his gaze from the bruised fist to Arthur's face and freezing when he saw the look of agony there. "Does it hurt that much?"

"No." Arthur shook his head, clearing his throat as he looked away. "It just throbs, but it doesn't really hurt. Not my hand."

"If your hand isn't what's hurting you, what is?" Merlin frowned, confused. "Did you manage to hurt yourself while I was with the King and failed to tell me?"

There was a knock on the door. "Merlin."

Arthur's eyes narrowed and he _growled_.

Merlin shot the lad an amused look, secretly enjoying the fact that it obviously displeased his boy whenever he was near his once lover. "Come in."

The door opened and Lancelot appeared, looking handsome as ever, his hair a little longer than usual. "We have urgent news that needs to be discussed."

Arthur glared at the newcomer. "He's just arrived. You'd _think_ that Mercia would give its Court Sorcerer the rest he needs."

Lancelot raised an eyebrow at Merlin.

Merlin sighed and gave Arthur a slap up the back of his head. "What have I told you about being respectful to your superiors?"

One day Arthur was going to get into a lot of trouble if he didn't learn his place-or at least _pretend_ to know it while they were amongst others.

The blonde shot Merlin an angry glare before growling at Lancelot once more and storming to the small room adjacent to Merlin's which he never used unless he was sulking...slamming the door behind him.

Loudly.

"I see you have yet to tell him about my...understanding...with Cassius." Lancelot's lip twitched with betrayed amusement. "Don't think I'm not onto you, Merlin. You enjoy his snarling."

"What urgent news brought you here again?" Merlin asked, refusing to admit so.

"Right." Lancelot took in a deep breath, face going serious. "We have news that a small group from Caerleon is headed our way with news of great import."

"Caerleon?" Merlin frowned. "Has something happened to Lord Henry?"

"Not that we have heard of." Lancelot shook his head. "From what I've been told, heading this group is his eldest son."

"_Gwaine_?" Merlin was worried now. "Henry wouldn't suffer his _heir_ to travel through these war stricken lands if it wasn't that this was urgent."

"Exactly." Lancelot nodded. "He will arrive in three days time. King Bayard has sent out an escort to meet them halfway and provide extra protection."

"Good." Merlin looked towards the window and then back. "Is that all?"

"Why?" Lancelot teased. "Eager to get back to your possessive little puppy?"

"After our little confrontation here?" Merlin chuckled, shaking his head. "He'll have the door locked and will refuse to come out until _hunger_ forces him to tomorrow."

Lancelot shook his head. "You _do_ remember you're not only a sorcerer but his _master_, do you not?"

Merlin just gave him a sheepish smile.

Lancelot smirked. "You're too good to him, Merlin."

"I am." Merlin agreed.

Lancelot suddenly bit his bottom lip, as if not sure whether he should say this, before clearing his throat. "What will happen when Gwaine arrives?"

"I don't know." Merlin raised an eyebrow, thinking the answer should be obvious. "We don't know what matter is so urgent."

"No, not with that, I mean with the kid." Lancelot cleared his throat once more, motioning with his head towards the adjacent room.

Merlin looked at the room as well before turning a confused look in Lancelot's direction. "I don't see how those two things correlate."

Lancelot took in a deep breath, obviously uncomfortable. "I understand that you have grown attached to your little slave boy...although given his temperament I can't comprehend _why_...but Gwaine...he won't be as understanding."

Merlin frowned. "He shouldn't have an opinion either way. It is none of his concern whom I bed."

Lancelot made a face. "Surely you can't truly think that."

Merlin frowned darker. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you were his lover!" Lancelot hissed, lowering his voice. "Everyone knows how possessive he is of you, and how he wasn't pleased to learn of your and my understanding when we had it. Should he find out that you are _tender_ towards your slave from _Camelot_, a place so hated by Caerleon..."

"As I said before." Merlin's eyes narrowed. "Who I bed and how I treat my slaves is no concern of Gwaine. He knows this, and will respect it."

"I hope you're right." Lancelot sighed. "For the boy's sake."

And with that he left, closing the door behind him.

The sorcerer sent a look towards the door to the adjacent room.

Really, he couldn't understand why Lancelot would think Gwaine would be a problem.

Shaking his head, he went to his bed and fell asleep.

When, later on during the night, he heard mumbling about 'idiot warlocks' as Arthur snuck into bed and curled up against him, Merlin just smirked and went back to sleep.

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"Gwaine of Caerleon?" Arthur frowned as they ate together in their room, a chicken leg halfway towards his mouth. "He's coming _here_? To the castle?"

"Should be arriving in a day or so." Merlin nodded, taking a sip of his wine. "Apparently he has news of urgent import that Caerleon obviously feels can't be trusted to a mere messenger."

"What do you think it is?" Arthur put down his food, lips pulled in a grim line. "Do you think it has to do with the war?"

"Most definitely." Merlin put down the goblet of wine and leaned his elbows on the table, chin resting on his enlaced fingers. "It's intriguing."

Arthur frowned darkly, eyes on his plate.

Picking up on his sombre mood, Merlin raised an eyebrow, and then smiled. "Don't worry, I'm sure Camelot still has some fight in them."

"Of _course_ we do." Arthur grumbled.

It was kinda adorable.

"I know you don't think much about my kingdom, but we're going to win, and when we do and I'm freed, the king is going to give me _you_ as a sex slave as a reward for having to put up with you all this time." Arthur continued on, his usual bravado rearing its stubborn head. "And then, _Mer_-lin, _then_, I'm going to have you chained up and there'll be a collar around your throat and you won't be able to use magic unless _I_ let you." He smiled lecherously. "And I'll only let you do it as a reward for when you please me _especially_ well."

Merlin tilted his head, utterly fascinated by this peek into Arthur's head.

Obviously, the youth had been thinking about this for quite some time.

And the thought gave the golden boy much pleasure.

The sorcerer snorted in amusement, shaking his head.

"_What_ is there to laugh about, you idiot?" Arthur grumbled, obviously displeased with Merlin's reaction to the revelation of his sinister master plan.

"I just find it amusing that even if your side supposedly wins, we're still going to be having sex." Merlin chuckled, not at all bothered by Arthur calling him names.

He'd gotten too used to it by now.

Color crept up Arthur's neck as he sputtered indignantly. "You should be grateful to be my slave!"

"Oh, I _am_." Merlin declared, lips curling in a smile as he got down on his knees and slowly shuffled towards Arthur, resting himself between his legs, hands caressing the boy's thighs slowly.

Arthur gulped.

"As your slave, what would you want me to do to _especially_ please you?" Merlin purred, hands continuing their caress, smirk tilting his lips as he saw the thin cloth covering Arthur beginning to tent eagerly. "Would you want me to take you in my mouth and show you how _happy_ I am to be serving you?"

Arthur opened his mouth, and yet no sound seemed able to escape.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold and they were suddenly on the bed, with him leaning over the boy as he dropped open mouth kisses to his chest. They were slow, teasing, his tongue tracing patterns around Arthur's before continuing downwards towards the place that wished to be caressed the most.

"_Merlin_." Arthur sucked in his breath as his weeping head butted against Merlin's chin as the sorcerer moved downwards.

"What do you want me to do now?" Merlin continued with the game, lips brushing the pulsating cock as he spoke, his breath hot and moist and deliberately torturing his lad. "Do you want me to continue touching you, your thighs, massaging my way up? Do you want my hands on your cock, slicked from my mouth worshipping it as any slave should his master?"

Arthur whimpered, hips bucking, hands clasping fistfuls of sheet.

"Do you?" Merlin slowly licked the underside of his cock, twirling his tongue around the slit once he'd reached the top, tasting the sweetness that was Arthur.

"_Merlin_!" Arthur begged, not sounding very master-like at all.

The sorcerer engulfed that cock with his mouth, relaxing his throat as much as possible as he took as much as he could. Of course, he could probably magic away his gag reflex, but he didn't want to, wanted to put some effort into this as his lips wrapped tightly around Arthur's throbbing cock. Merlin hollowed his cheeks as he moved his mouth up and down, worshipping Arthur with his tongue as well.

"_Merlin_." Arthur whispered, voice choked, his knuckles white from the force he was using to grip the sheets.

Eyes flashing gold, Merlin moved his free hand to that puckered star, causing Arthur to jolt violently at the softest of touches, a deep throated groan escaping those tempting lips.

Merlin chuckled, the vibrations echoing around the cock in his mouth, causing Arthur to let out a pathetic whimper he'd later refuse to admit he'd ever made.

With a loud pop, Merlin released the throbbing member, hand working slowly, torturously over it.

The fingers of his other hand brushed one by one over the winking star, pushing slightly in temptingly, and yet never truly breaching.

Arthur's breathing deepened, body shuddering in need every time a teasing digit presented itself at his entrance, a moan of complaint escaping his lips when it would shy away only to be replaced by another.

Merlin looked down at his gift, fascinated, as always, in the change that overcame the lad whenever he was under the power of pleasure.

Gone was the arrogance and defiance and attitude, and instead lay a compliant, needy, sometimes _bossy_ lover who both loved and detested the teasing torture he received under his master's care.

Arthur, apparently growing tired of waiting, pressed down against one of the taunting digits, causing it to sink partially into him. A cry echoed in his throat as those golden eyelashes fluttered to his cheek and his back arched, forcing the digit in even more until Merlin pulled out.

"You..._bastard_!" Arthur snarled, eyes flowing open, half hazy with need.

"I'm sorry, but without the ability to use my magic...I can't lubricate you...and this will hurt." Merlin played his part perfectly, pressing against the puckered hole once more.

Arthur mewled at the touch, before glowering once more at Merlin. "Without the ability-?"

"Collar and all, remember?" Merlin smirked, referring to Arthur's little fantasy.

Arthur continued to look at Merlin in hazy confusion, before suddenly his eyes narrowed in understanding. "You _idiot_! Then use some oil or something! Gods dammit Merlin! _Do_ something!"

"But Master..." Merlin tried his best to look innocent, which was kinda hard to do when his finger was lazily circling that winking star. "I'm just a meek slave, why would I have oil with me? _You_ would have to provide it."

Arthur shot Merlin a defeated look, obviously refusing to give in despite the fact that his body must be under torture.

Merlin couldn't stand that look on his slave's face.

Eyes flashing gold, Merlin plunged in his middle finger without warming, all the way to the knuckle.

Arthur cried, arching, making that noise that made Merlin fucking hard in _seconds_ whenever he heard it.

The sorcerer worked that finger in and out in and out, before adding another, and another, slowly yet surely stretching that soft warmth. Of course he could just forego all of this and just use magic to stretch Arthur, but it would mean that Merlin would miss hearing those tiny gasps for breath, wouldn't watch as that blush crept over Arthur's body, wouldn't feel that body as its trembled viciously.

"N-not _enough_." Arthur complained, eyes wanton, lips parted, as one hand unclenched from the sheets to grab tightly onto Merlin's sleeve, trying to tug him towards him, but in his pleasure he was weak.

His hips bucked towards Merlin, desperately trying to feel more, harder, faster, more.

"Would my Master like my magic to give him what he needs?" Merlin purred.

"N-no!" Arthur hissed, voice near frantic. "_Merlin_!"

"What do you want, Arthur?" Merlin asked, lifting one of Arthur's legs and hooking the calf around his neck so he could press kisses to that glorious skin.

The boy made a noise, screwing his eyes tightly. "_You...know!"_

Merlin's teeth nibbled softly on that inner thigh. "You have to _say_ it, Arthur."

"_No_." He fought, defiantly, shaking his head.

The sorcerer's other hand reached out and curled around that jutting, hungry cock, stroking him to the rhythm of the fingers thrusting inside.

Arthur cried loudly, the sound a gurgle in his throat, as he arched off of the bed, his hands once more clutched at the sheets. "Gods damn you!"

"You're a _very_ ungrateful whelp." Merlin delighted in informing him.

Arthur's eyes opened only so he could glare heatedly at the dark haired man.

Merlin retaliated by shifting his fingers and hitting the place deep inside of Arthur that he'd memorized by now.

A hoarse cry emerged from those lips. "N-no! N-not like _this_! _Dammit_ Merlin!" His eyes flew open. "Not just by myself you useless idiot!"

Merlin froze, eyes widening, swallowing deeply.

He then smirked, recovering. "Well, since you asked so _nicely_..."

"I didn't." Arthur snapped.

But then Merlin had removed his hands from Arthur's body to free himself, and then he lined himself with Arthur, pushing in.

They hissed as Merlin's cock slid in with ease, the warlock burying himself to the hilt.

Although his eyes wanted to close at the divine sensation, Merlin forced them open, because he needed to _see_ Arthur.

As he moved, slow at first, faster soon, rougher, harder, the sorcerer couldn't look away from that beautiful face as Arthur came undone before him. His hand found Arthur's cock once more, working him in time with the thrusts, hypnotized by the sounds Arthur made, by the way he arched and closed his eyes tightly.

Inside of Arthur was like the land of gods, and Merlin could lose himself in the sensation of warm velvet caressing him all over. His cock throbbed as Arthur tightened around him, deliberately. A hiss of utter pleasure and a little pain at how _tight_ the boy was escaped Merlin's lips as his thrusts grew faster, his eyes finally closing as he concentrated on the feel.

One of Arthur's hands caressed his stomach, nails leaving little trails up his body before reaching one of Merlin's nipples, pinching it.

Merlin groaned, thrusting harder, deeper.

Arthur whimpered in appreciation.

Merlin turned to the leg hooked over his shoulder, biting into the flesh hard, yet not enough to break the skin.

Arthur cursed, his cock giving violent throbs, his hips bucking into Merlin's, taking Merlin in deeper.

The sorcerer prayed Arthur would cum soon, since he didn't know how much longer he could hold off.

His magic reacted, and with a cry of shock and choked pleasure, Arthur came, spurting his warmth on both of them. Merlin stroked him through his orgasm, clenching his teeth tightly as that tiny hole tightened even more. With a curse he released, buried balls deep, head bent.

Arthur's body milked him eagerly, and by the time Merlin finally collapsed next to him, the sorcerer was tired and satisfied.

He'd spent the whole day with the king going over strategies and such, and now that he'd been inside Arthur he could sleep peacefully.

Arthur, too sated with boneless pleasure to complain, only hummed as Merlin curled around him from behind.

Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur's shoulder, whispering a spell to clean them and the bed, before turning off the lights, the sheets moving to cover them.

Eyes closing, Merlin drew Arthur closer, arm hooked around his waist.

Sleep descended on him like moonlight.

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Merlin looked up at the moonlight, unable to believe what Gwaine had revealed to them after resting upon his arrival. Only King Bayard, Merlin, and Lancelot knew the truth, and while the others were enjoying the feast King Bayard had thrown in Gwaine's honor, Merlin couldn't find himself in a festive mood.

Apparently the prince of Camelot wasn't sick.

He wasn't even in Camelot.

According to a spy within Camelot's walls had revealed to Lord Henry that the young prince had taken arms and joined the battlefield, and the king and queen had started the rumor of the prince's illness so that their enemies wouldn't know that the heir was on the front lines. They had their High Priestess, Nimueh, searching for the young prince, and she had yet to find his location.

Merlin wondered what sort of powerful magic could be hiding the prince from someone as great as Nimueh, High Priestess of the Old Religion.

But that didn't matter.

Not truly.

What mattered was that the Crown Prince of Camelot was somewhere out there, fighting.

He could be killed any minute, could have been killed already.

And they'd never know.

"The feast is inside, Merlin."

Turning, Merlin smiled at Gwaine as the handsome man arrived, goblet filled with ale. "You celebrate enough for the both of us."

"As always." Gwaine nodded, knocking back his head and downing the whole goblet before tossing said goblet over his shoulder once it was empty. "So, apparently everyone in Mercia believes that I'm still enamored with you."

Merlin shook his head, expression rueful.

"What's this I've been hearing about a little slave who has you forgetting about any other source of pleasure?" Gwaine asked, curious, joining Merlin leaning against the railing. "Gregory tells me he's a captured soldier from Camelot of all places."

"He's _mine_." Merlin's eyes flashed warningly. "That's all you need to concern yourself with."

"You really _are_ tender towards him." Gwaine mumbled, shaking his head. "You _do_ know that the first opportunity to that he gets, he'll escape and leave you, do you not?"

Merlin's expression darkened as he nodded, gaze on the shadowed garden beneath them. "I know."

"Then _why_?" Gwaine asked, genuinely confused.

"Because I can't _not_." Merlin sighed, running a hand over his head.

Gwaine made a face. "Be careful Merlin, you're starting to sound as if you're more than _tender_ towards him." The man eyed him closely. "You almost sound as if you _love_ him."

"Don't be ridiculous, Gwaine." Merlin grumbled, glaring at the shrubbery below.

Gwaine just watched him, before smirking crookedly, patting Merlin's back. "What's his name?"

"Arthur." Merlin mumbled miserably.

"Really?" Gwaine raised an eyebrow. "That's the prince of Camelot's name."

Merlin snorted, darkly amused. "Yes, of course, I have the Crown Prince in my chambers, desperate to suck my cock every night."

Gwaine broke out into a lecherous smirk. "You've got him _willingly_ performing with his mouth on you?" He chuckled. "You really _must_ be treating him tenderly!"

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"I must meet him."

"You really think that I'd let you near Arthur?" Merlin scoffed. "I _know_ you, Gwaine. The moment you see him I'll have to kill you to keep you away."

"Ah, you intrigue me further Merlin! Bad form!" Gwaine teased. "My curiosity soars to new heights."

"Then clip its wings before I throw a thunderbolt at it." Merlin grumbled.

"I assure you, my good friend, that you wound me with such talk. I am made of solely pure and noble intentions." Gwaine then broke out into the seemingly never-ending tale of his many conquests (both male and female) since he and Merlin had parted ways as friends.

Amused, Merlin listened.

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Pinning Arthur face first against the wall, buried deep inside of him, teeth in his shoulder as his hand moved over that pulsating cock, Merlin smirked at the sounds Arthur made. The young man begged and pleaded and cursed and hissed and threatened Merlin with all sorts of bodily harm if he didn't let him come soon. The sorcerer enjoyed torturing Arthur like this, bringing the arrogant soldier to his knees, stripping away his usual bravado and leaving him trembling and needy in his arms.

His teeth dug harder into Arthur's shoulder, breaking through the skin.

Arthur screamed as he came, bucking wildly, throwing his head back to rest on Merlin's shoulder as Merlin pumped him through his orgasm before finding his own release deep inside the body that belonged only to _him_.

Only when Arthur was pliant in his arms, breathing heavily, did Merlin lick the small amount of blood that'd risen to the surface of the skin. He purred, tasting the metallic, his tongue soothing the injury, his magic nulling any pain.

"You know," he murmured against that skin. "If I had known that hearing your prince was alive and well somewhere fighting would have made you this happy...I would have told you sooner." His tongue trailed the crescent moon mark he'd left. "I can only imagine how you'll treat me when your little prince finally pops up somewhere...which he definitely will now that everyone is looking for him."

Arthur went tense under him immediately.

Merlin frowned, pulling away and turning his back on his slave, going to the bed.

From the moment he'd told Arthur what Gwaine had told him, the boy had been acting odd. He'd been quiet, tense, thoughtful, and then he'd nearly _attacked_ Merlin with his desperateness as he tore at the wizard's clothes. It'd been rougher and harder than usual, pressed up against the wall, and apparently that was how Arthur had wanted it because every time Merlin had tried to do something to make him more comfortable the boy would snarl at him.

Merlin wondered what exactly this was.

Did Arthur have hope now that he'd be rescued and wanted to remind himself that this was fucking, not making love, as Merlin had started thinking of it?

The sorcerer murmured the cleaning magic and went to bed, collapsing on it as he looked up at the ceiling.

Arthur followed him silently, before surprising the warlock by moving over him, mouth teasing Merlin to half-mast, and then fully hard once more.

"Arthur?" Merlin frowned, worried.

Although he would usually be in the land of the gods right now due to Arthur's willingness, there was a near _desperateness_ in the boy's actions as he lowered himself down onto Merlin, filling himself.

Arthur's eyes connected with Merlin, a million sorts of torment there, as he reached for Merlin's hand and brought it to his weeping cock.

Merlin didn't know what was wrong, knew Arthur wouldn't tell him, but he also knew that Arthur was in his own way, asking for comfort. So the sorcerer gave him that, moving his hand over Arthur as the younger male fucked himself on Merlin slowly, torturously.

When it was finished, Arthur collapsed onto Merlin's chest, just holding onto him tightly.

Merlin embraced the young man tightly, worried more than he'd been in a very long time. "What's wrong Arthur?"

Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin's heartbeat.

"What do you need?" Merlin whispered as he pressed a kiss to that crown of golden hair. "Just ask it and I'll give it to you."

Arthur trembled in his embrace, and it was only when Merlin felt the first drop of water on his skin that he realized that the young slave was crying.

But before Merlin could demand Arthur tell him what was wrong, a bright light erupted in the middle of the room, bathing them in blinding light.

They jumped apart, Merlin finding himself pinned to the ground, looking up at the beautiful dark haired woman who'd just invaded his room.

"_Nimueh_." Arthur whispered, voice choking.

The woman turned to him, eyes widening in horror as she noticed his state of nakedness. "Your _Highness_."

Merlin's heart sunk to his stomach in horror, his eyes going to Arthur the same time Arthur's wide ones went to his.

"_You_!" Nimueh snarled and turned to Merlin, throwing a spell towards him. "You will _die_ for this!"

And then Merlin knew pain unlike any he'd ever experienced, and everything was black.

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Queen Igraine stood outside her son's room with her husband and Nimueh, rescuer of the prince. Gaius, the Court Physician, had just come from administrating a sedative to her son, and examining him. Apparently, while it was obvious that her son had been...had been used by those _monsters_...his body had shown no signs of true abuse. There were no scars, no bruises, and no...tearing or scarring...in key areas.

"And you're sure you killed the bastard who used him?" Uther turned to Nimueh.

The High Priestess, who had finally been able to see through the veil of thick magic hiding Arthur from her, nodded. "No human, sorcerer or not, could have survived the spell I cast."

"Good." Uther snarled. "Mercia will _rue_ the day they were formed!"

Screams erupted from Arthur's room.

Igraine pushed passed Gaius and rushed inside to see her son screaming and thrashing in bed.

"Merlin!" Arthur screamed, eyes wide yet unseeing, lost in whatever nightmare visions he beheld in his hallucinatory state. "Get up Merlin! Get up!"

"Honey?" Igraine cried, at her son's side, touching a hand to his forehead. "Arthur, its mother." Her voice trembled with her restrained cries. "You're safe honey."

"Merlin _no_!" Arthur cried, tears falling down his face. "_Please_ open your eyes!"

"What is it Gaius?" Uther asked, worried. "What is happening?"

"Hallucinations brought on by the large amount of sedative I had to give him to calm him down." Gaius frowned, checking his patient carefully. "He was mumbling this same name in near delirium before I administrated the sedatives to him. He kept on saying 'he can't be dead' over and over again."

"Who is Merlin?" Igraine asked, despairing to see her son suffering so much.

Nimueh stood in the doorway, conflict on her face. "I think-I think it was the man who had him captive."

Uther went rigid.

"Merlin, _please_." Arthur stopped fighting, slumping in defeat, tears racing down his cheeks. "Don't leave me you idiot."

"_Arthur_." Igraine cried, brushing his hair out of his face.

"I _love_ you." Arthur whimpered pathetically before going silent.

The three in the prince's room stood silent, horror filling their hearts.

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"We almost lost you."

Merlin looked up at Lancelot, who stood in the dark corner of the room. "I can't believe I was so stupid."

Lancelot sighed as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed. "None of us knew that he was here as a spy, and that the moment he knew his cover was blown he'd get his witch to take him home."

"I should have known." Merlin snarled, running his hand over his hair. "I-I was a _fool_ for him! I let him get away with-I felt-I-he was only using me so that I'd tell him _everything_ I did with the king! He knows so much Lancelot! Because of me! Because I felt I could trust him!"

Lancelot sighed.

"All along he was using me for information...using my..." Merlin covered his face with his hands, a sound of misery escaping him as he hunched over. "I was in _love_ with him!"

"I know." Lancelot placed his hand on his shoulder.

"And I thought he felt something for me too-how stupid was I?" Merlin's voice was broken. "Up until the last minute he played his part so well-I was _worried_ about him! And then his witch comes and they try to _kill_ me! They would have too if it wasn't for the fact that-."

"That you're special." Lancelot finished.

Merlin scoffed. "Touched in the head, I am."

"Don't say that." Lancelot narrowed his eyes. "We were all fooled by Camelot and by Arthur, but now they've shown their true colors-and that they're not willing to play fair."

"You're right." Merlin whispered. "They _have_ shown who they truly are." He finally slid his hands from his face, taking in a deep breath. "I'm not going to be halfhearted anymore, Lance." He turned to the soldier. "If they want war, we'll give them war."

Lancelot nodded and squeezed Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin looked at him and placed his hand on Lance's.

Outside the window, a storm began to brew, dark and dangerous.

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**Now, you see THIS was why I fought writing a sequel. I KNEW it could only end like this. *sighs*.**

**Review?**


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